Crosshairs
by ericastwilight
Summary: In Edward's world, loyalty was the difference between life and death, money often corrupted the purest of souls, and trusting the wrong person could prove deadly. Caught in the crosshairs of love, family, and duty, which would he choose? 1st Place Judge's Pick by Hopesparkles


**Pen Name: ericastwilight**

 **Facebook name: Erica Marroquin**

 **Story Title: Crosshairs**

 **Summary** **:** **In Edward's world, loyalty was the difference between life and death, money often corrupted the purest of souls, and trusting the wrong person could prove deadly. Caught in the crosshairs of love, family, and duty, which would he choose?**

 **Pairing: Edward/Bella**

 **Rating: M**

 **Beta: Midnight Cougar**

 **Disclaimer:** **All things Twilight belong solely to Stephenie Meyer. No copyright infringement is intended.**

* * *

Carlisle Cullen sensed the tension between his sons during dinner, as they half listened to their mother go over issues with renovations.

The Cullen home was immaculate, but Carlisle often indulged his wife. She was the center of his universe, which she used to her advantage. If she'd noticed the strain between her sons, she ignored it. She insisted they never discuss _family business_ at the table.

Jasper, Carlisle's oldest son, was in position to succeed when he stepped down. Jasper inherited his blue eyes and dark brown hair, though his temperament was unequivocally his mother. The deadliest of his three boys, Jasper had a deceptively calming presence. Striking out at his prey when least expected.

Jasper's jaw ticked as he glared at his brother. Edward, the second of Carlisle's sons, with reddish brown hair and green eyes, like his wife, merely sighed in response. His sharp jaw, dark with stubble, gave him a rugged, dangerous look. Edward was cunning and arrogant, too smart for his own good.

Emmett, the youngest, was built like an ox. At only twenty-two, he knew better than to get between his brothers.

"Whatever has you two angry, put it aside for your mother." Carlisle turned to his eldest. "Your wife is late, again."

Sunday dinner was mandatory, because family was everything.

"She was only late twenty minutes last time." Esme pretended it didn't matter her sole daughter-in-law disrespected her.

Seeing his wife upset meant Carlisle couldn't ignore it. "What is the meaning of her tardiness? Your mother works hard to prepare a family meal for us once a week. It's not a lot to ask."

Edward decided to voice the issue. "For him to explain…" He glanced at his mother. "It may concern business."

Esme gasped, Emmett's head snapped up, Jasper cursed.

Carlisle's blood turned to ice. "I see. We'll discuss this after dinner."

Jasper kept his head down, but his hand slipped into his jacket.

"Don't." Carlisle pounded his fist on the table. "Felix, disarm my sons now."

The bodyguard Carlisle kept nearby removed guns and knives from his sons.

Esme's paralyzing fear melted into anger. "Carlisle, I must insist the boys always be disarmed at _my_ table."

"Yes, dear." He asked his wife to continue her story, as if nothing happened.

Esme carried on, barely keeping her composure. She knew little of the family business, but she knew what disloyalty meant. _Death._

 _._

 _._

 _._

 _ **Six months later**_

Edward Cullen walked into the club, turning heads as usual, but he ignored them. Some brave women waved, earning his hard glare in return. They cowered back as expected. He had no time to deal with their attentions. Jasper's aspirations of taking over when their father stepped down disappeared, leaving Edward to pick up the slack.

"I'm sorry, Bro." Emmett stood outside the VIP section. "He's been snorting shit off some bitches—even started fucking one until she said her name wasn't Maria. He pulled a gun on her. I got her outta here, but he wouldn't go home."

One of the few rules Carlisle had for his sons was never to use the drugs they moved. It had more control over a person than anything else.

"I disarmed him."

Edward watched as Demetri waved a wand along the bottom of a table once inside the room. Constant surveillance was essential; between law enforcement and their enemies, they often found bugs.

"Hey, Edward." Demetri put a finger to his lips, meaning he found a bug.

"Shit." Emmett headed upstairs to look at the video feed for the room. They had to move fast if they wanted to catch who planted the bug, though it was often unlikely.

One long, sleek, blue couch sat in the middle of the room, Jasper sitting on one end.

With his limp dick out.

Jasper grinned. "You gonna keep looking at my cock, little brother?"

Edward resisted the urge to roll his eyes, his brother loved to remind him he was younger. "Put your dick away."

Jasper did, shrugging. "I want my gun."

"Not going to happen." Edward acknowledged his Uncle Garrett sitting at the bar; also noticing the extra security and a few women who regularly hooked up with them and his brothers.

Jasper tried standing, unsuccessfully. "Did Emmy snitch on me?"

"You tried to shoot a woman you were fucking."

Jasper's eyes turned glacial as he stood. "You forget, I already shot a woman I was fucking."

"Shut up." Edward looked at Demetri, who motioned it was clear now. "The room wasn't fucking clean."

"What the fuck do I care? If I shoot another gold-digging whore, I'd be doing the world a favor."

Edward shook his head. "Someone else should've taken care of Maria."

Jasper threw a sloppy punch, but Edward caught his brother's wrist, twisting it until Jasper was on his knees.

"Don't say her name!"

"I will do anything to protect this family." Edward pulled Jasper's arm up his back, but Jasper barely felt it seemed. No doubt the drugs in his system numbed the pain. "If I hadn't exposed she was fucking a cop, we'd be in prison."

Edward released and helped Jasper to his feet. "Pull yourself together. Dad called for a meeting."

.

.

.

Edward walked past the hostess of Garrett's restaurant, not bothering to address her. The second she caught a glimpse of Garrett, she hastily looked away. She knew better than to question family.

"Everyone here?" Edward joined Felix inside the banquet room.

Felix was built like a linebacker, with a brown crew cut, and barrel chest. As his father's bodyguard, he'd taken a couple bullets for him, and was considered family.

"Just waiting for you."

"Let's get started." Carlisle's stone-cold demeanor had all discussion ending as Edward sat down near the head of the table.

Edward's Uncle Marcus looked angry; he handled business through several gentlemen's club throughout the city.

Carlisle continued. "Someone is killing our girls at the clubs. We thought Becky and Michelle had moved on, but their bodies were discovered. Someone left a message."

Carlisle tossed a photo of a clear evidence bag onto the table. Inside the bag was a bloody Ace of Spades card. Alec Rossi, Aro Rossi's second son, was a well-known card shark and local champion. Ace was Alec's call name underground.

The Rossi Family had been after Cullen territory for years. A botched police raid of one of the Rossi warehouses ended the life of the eldest son, Marco. Alec believed the Cullens tipped off the police; since then, Alec was determined to destroy the Cullen Empire.

Marcus pounded his fist on the table. "Becky was a good girl, almost finished with college. What he did to her body. . ." He choked up. "We take care of our own, but if he kills again, the police will notice."

Carlisle nodded. "If I order a hit, it means war."

"Make it look like an accident," Edward suggested.

Marcus snarled at him. "He needs to suffer."

"You're right." Edward looked to his father. "Are they still here?"

"They're in Texas eliminating a problem. Call them to come back and ask for a special."

Edward turned to Marcus. "Consider it done. Our usual contractors specialize in accidents and torture."

Marcus nodded, satisfied.

Edward needed to make the call soon. "Anything else?"

His father nodded his head. "Some of you are worried about the future when I retire."

"Who's questioning the future?" Edward asked.

"I am." Garrett kept his eyes on Jasper. "You've become a liability—to yourself, and the family."

Edward was afraid of what that meant.

Carlisle waved Felix over. "Tell them what you told me."

"I had to take Jasper to the Doc when he OD'd last week."

Edward cursed.

"I relinquish my position as Father's second." Jasper stood, not looking anyone in the eye. "It's for the best. I'm leaving for a rehab center now."

Jasper left with two men without another word.

By the end of the meeting, Edward had become his father's second, and he had a year to find a wife.

.

.

.

"I'm not going to find what I'm looking for here." Edward realized he was wasting time at the club a few months after that fateful meeting.

"If you want pussy, there're plenty of women here for that. If you're looking for someone to take home to Mom, then, yeah, you're in the wrong place, Bro."

"You surprise me, Emmett. Aren't all women the same to you?"

Emmett got around, _a lot._

"Not after what happened with Jasper and Maria."

It pained Edward to know he was one of the reasons his brother was still in rehab.

"I'm wasting time. I've never left with any of these _ladies_ before."

"I hadn't noticed you never did." And it wasn't for lack of attention. "Why?"

Edward gestured toward Larissa, a regular in the VIP room. "She's fucked Marcus, you, and Jasper."

"Okay…"

"I can connect any woman here to at least two of our people."

Emmett grimaced. "Where do you meet your _dates_?"

"A party or benefit, sometimes a gallery opening. But women here, they know how much I'm worth. I want someone who wants me, not my money."

"The only way that's going to happen is if you move and are somebody else." Emmett laughed, noticing how serious Edward became. "I was kidding. Besides, Dad will never go for it. Not with Alec out there."

Alec Rossi disappeared after the discovery of the two girls. He knew how to hide, and not even their contractors could locate him.

"He'll listen to reason."

Emmett groaned, their father visiting the club was never a good thing. "Speaking of Dad."

"Edward." Carlisle nodded toward the bar, where they each grabbed a drink.

Confirming the room was clear, Edward asked, "Any word?"

"Contractors found him, but one of them was hurt badly. Alec got away. They said to give them a few weeks; they'd get the job done."

"You did remind them it has to look like an accident?"

"They're aware."

"About finding a wife…"

"You must be engaged or married, Edward." Carlisle shook his head. "Do you remember when your Uncle Caius was head of the family; he was a madman without a companion. The position comes with a heavy burden, Son. You need to have that one person you trust, and who is a soft place to land."

"I'm not going to find that here where everyone knows who I am."

Carlisle's eyes narrowed. "What are you up to, Edward?"

Edward laid it out for his father. He'd leave Chicago, assume another identity, and have less security with him. After arguing for hours, Edward won. A few days later, he drove to Seattle in hopes to find his future bride.

.

.

.

" _How is it possible you haven't met anyone yet?"_ Emmett asked over the phone.

"I got rid of the luxury car, as you suggested, even toned down what I wore."

" _I'm guessing you couldn't give up your watches?"_ Emmett knew Edward loved his watches, often stealing them to piss him off.

"One look at my watch, even dressed in old fucking jeans and a plain T-shirt on, they knew I had money."

" _A watch isn't enough to attract gold diggers, not with your ugly mug? Are you driving the Bugatti?"_

"My car is on the way home as we speak."

" _And you're supposedly the smartest one of us. If you're driving one of those cars and wearing expensive watches, what you wear doesn't matter. Where are you searching?"_

"Some classy places."

" _No bars."_ Emmett sounded stressed; their father wanted Edward home.

Some shady shit was going down with the Rossi Family, and Alec was proving elusive. The Cullens' contractors already said they'd do the hit for free, but it mattered little if Alec couldn't be found.

" _What did you buy to drive?"_

"A fucking truck."

" _Some of those fuckers can go up to sixty-five grand."_

"It's five years old, with worn upholstery, and a dent on the tailgate." Edward hated it.

" _I wish I would've seen your face when you bought that shit."_

He didn't have time for his brother's teasing. What he needed was coffee, and he had a place in mind.

"You're acting like an ass, Em. Do you think I enjoy finding a wife like this? Think about it. I'll basically have to lie my ass off to her."

" _Shouldn't be too hard. You're a fucking pro at deception."_ Emmett sounded serious. _"But I get what you mean. Lying is not the way to start a relationship."_

"Exactly." Edward parked in front of a small cafe, currently in the middle of an expansion. There was a brunette who'd caught his eye last week, but she had disappeared before he finished his coffee order. Something about her made him stop and stare, so he hoped to see her again.

Disappointed the woman wasn't in the cafe, he finished his call with his brother, ordering his poison—a strong, black coffee.

"Here you go." The barista, a young blonde cutie, handed him his drink. He winked, causing her to blush.

He'd corrupt the fuck out of someone so wholesome and young. No, what he needed was a woman who straddled the line. He wanted someone essentially good, but seasoned enough to handle the bad.

He took a seat near the back wall, facing the front door and windows. When he chose the small, picturesque community, his people researched the area and some of the inhabitants. They wanted no surprises, always keeping track of their enemies. If one of them stepped into Washington, Edward would have security with him within minutes.

The cafe was rather small but cozy. Warm, earthy tones, classic paintings, and prints adorned the walls, while fancy lamps hung over every table. The noise from construction was loud, but thick sheets of plastic kept out the dust.

The opaque curtain made Edward nervous. Was someone watching him? Suddenly, a hand shot out from behind the sheet, pushing it aside to pass through.

The brunette he'd seen the week prior smiled at the barista behind the counter.

Edward loosened the grip on his gun, tucking it a little deeper into the waistband of his jeans. His instincts were way off, for some reason. The woman had alarm bells ringing in his head, but she also had his body responding in distinct ways.

His mouth went desert dry.

His pupils dilated.

His cock stirred for the first time in months.

Her hair was darker in the warm lighting of the cafe, but he remembered the red hues in the sunlight. The waves fell to the middle of her back, as she loosened them from her ponytail. She threw her head back as she laughed with the barista, exposing her beautiful, unadorned neck. Her full breasts and backside were as mesmerizing as the rest of her. But it was her eyes that drew him to stand in the middle of the cafe.

He wanted to know her name.

The barista pointed at Edward as they whispered about him.

The brunette glared at him.

Edward cocked an eyebrow in question, unsure what he'd done to deserve the woman's anger or suspicion. Had she recognized him? It was a possibility; though, his family rarely made national news.

He recognized her annoyance, a scowl forming on her full, pink lips. She took several steps toward him, but a commotion at the cafe's entrance diverted her attention.

An elderly couple struggled with the door; she ran over to help. She gave them warm smiles, but glared at him from over their shoulders.

What had he done to earn her anger?

"Someone parked in the handicap spot again." The old man grumbled, hanging his jacket and hat. "Bet you it's one of them a-holes from the country club, always thinking they can park wherever they want."

The young woman wheeled the old man's wife farther inside the building. "I have no doubt he's… How did you say it? An a-hole?"

The old woman laughed. "Henry tries not to cuss, says he worries about my sensibilities. But let's call it like it is, whoever parked there is an asshole."

The brunette giggled, telling the barista she'd cover the older couple's drinks. She stayed with them, answering questions about hercafe's renovations.

Shortly after leaving the couple, she disappeared behind the plastic sheeting. Reappearing a minute later, armed with a sheet of paper and a small box.

"Bella?" The barista's wide eyes turned to Edward, flicking away quickly. "Is that a good idea?"

"Sometimes, for an asshole to know what he did wrong, is to point out the obvious." The woman tipped up her chin and walked out the front entrance.

Edward thought about following, but decided it was best to do a little reconnaissance first. Other than an obvious temper and gorgeous body, he knew nothing about her.

The woman returned to scream proudly at the top of her lungs, dusting off her hands. "Job well done!"

The customers all seemed more amused than upset about the disruption. Some of them laughing, others smiling at her.

She got one worker's attention who was on break. "You do the usual, boss?"

 _The usual?_ Edward realized then, he was the asshole parked in the handicap space.

"Never mind that, Paul. Get back to work."

"Sure thing, boss." The young man slipped behind the plastic.

Edward decided he needed to man up and move his truck.

He spoke with the elderly couple, offering them something to eat for their troubles after apologizing. The woman, who'd noticed him glancing toward the spitfire, decided to give him some vital information.

According to Mrs. Cope, Bella was single and staring at them from behind the counter.

"She needs someone to take care of her; she's always working. If not, she's helping her father." Mrs. Cope leaned toward Edward. "He had some kind of accident."

Edward glanced over his shoulder, but Bella averted her gaze.

"I'm afraid her first impression of me won't give me a chance in hell, ma'am." He gave Mrs. Cope a charming smile; the same one he used on his grandmother.

The old woman looked into Edward's eyes, then thoroughly inspected his body. "I don't think you have a thing to worry about, young man." She gave him a flirty wink, her husband chuckling beside her. "What a handsome man; she'll be putty in your hands in no time."

Edward bent to kiss her hand. "Let's hope so." He listened to a few more pieces of advice from Mr. Cope before searching out the fiercely protective cafe owner.

Unfortunately, according to the barista, Bella ran to the bank.

Edward couldn't wait for her to return, having to check in with his father and his security team in less than an hour.

He noticed something on the windshield of his truck. He deserved a ticket, considering how far away the Copes had to park because of him. Thankfully, the truck would come back clean under the name of Edward Anthony Masen, his temporary, assumed identity.

He realized, however, it wasn't a ticket on his windshield, but a note, with something attached to it. Wary, he approached with caution to read the note.

In block print were the words:

PLEASE DON'T PROCREATE

Attached to the note was a strip of condoms.

Laughter tumbled out of him, and for the first time in years, he blushed like a kid. His eyes watered as he walked to his driver's side door, looking down to find something else.

In colorful chalk, she'd outlined the area around his truck, labeling it on the asphalt with: ASSHOLE PARKING.

Edward looked around, finally spotting her across the street, buying some flowers.

Her glare was gone, and she was trying hard not to smile at him.

"I surrender." He bowed elegantly, something she would appreciate. The weathered books and historical artwork in the cafe depicted a different era, classical. There was much more to the woman, and he wanted to learn everything about her. "Until tomorrow."

...

Edward waited in his truck across from the cafe the following morning. "Is the owner clean?"

" _Isabella Swan was arrested for protesting and assault, but the charges were later dropped. There's not much on her record."_

He heard Jason Jenks, his go-to man for background checks, typing away on his computer.

" _She has numerous speeding tickets."_ He whistled. _"She's beautiful. Gymnastics, swim team, choir in high school."_

 _High school?_ Edward cringed. "How old is she?"

" _Twenty-five, and wow. . ._ " Jenks sounded impressed, which rarely happened. _"She has a few cafes along the West Coast. She fast-tracked through college, has a business degree, minors in computer science and construction. Where has she been all my life?"_

Edward's jaw clenched. "Watch it."

Jenks chuckled. _"So the rumors of you searching for a wife are true?"_

Edward was going to kill Emmett; his brother loved to gossip.

"This stays between us. Do you understand?"

" _Yes, Sir."_ More typing. _"Should I send you the file?"_

"Yes." Edward ended the call and exited his truck, jogging toward the woman in question. She struggled with some items in her arms, a black Audi's trunk open. "Need a hand?"

She startled. "Oh, it's you." She wasn't pleased to see him, but her eyes lingered on his chest and arms. The gray T-shirt he wore already worked in his favor.

Edward helped, taking a nail gun from her. "Should I wave a white flag? Is that how I'll get a smile from you?"

Her lips pursed for a moment. She handed him a heavy but small box of nail strips for the nail gun. "I'd say buy me a cup of coffee, and we'll see what happens."

"But..." Edward sensed she was trying not to smile.

" _But_ I don't need you to buy me a cup of coffee, since I own a cafe."

"Then how about dinner?" He followed Bella inside the cafe and into the construction area.

She pointed at a table for him to put down the items he held. "Do you normally ask out women who made a fool of you?"

"Public humiliation is _not_ my kink."

Her mouth dropped open in surprise.

"I'd love a chance to get to know someone who calls me on my bullshit."

Bella rested her hip against the table. "I'm not sure. There's something about you I can't figure out."

Edward had a feeling she'd see right through him if he lied. "How about you ask me a few questions, then you can decide."

She seemed wary. "You mean for a date?"

Edward wondered if he could give her something for nothing; he normally didn't work that way. He was in Washington for a reason: to find someone who would be unconditionally loyal, couldn't be bought, and would put family first.

"I'll take the date off the table." He combed his fingers through his hair. "For now." He leaned toward her, her perfume stirred his senses. "Three questions, three answers. No date unless it's what you want."

"I'll bite, only because I'm curious by nature." She didn't immediately ask a question; instead, she started to walk around him. "Your clothes and truck say you work outside, but your fingernails give you away. They're too clean."

Her pinky finger hooked around his, her body coming to a stop along his side. She had him aching with such a simple touch. Warmth ran up the length of his arm, his body reacting to her in various ways.

She studied him. "The skin on your hands is soft, so you don't work with them, at least not outside."

Edward was used to women assessing him when he walked into a room. Some he immediately intimated, others were desperate to sink their nails into him. This woman's tour around him felt intimate and strangely important.

She touched the middle of his palm, then dropped his hand. "What do you do for a living?"

Edward already had an answer prepared, and it was something he'd dabbled with in college. "Web design, and I work from home. That last part was for free."

Her eyes settled on his lips. "And has home always been here in Washington?"

"I needed a change of scenery." He licked his lips, her mouth parting to pull in a shuddering breath. Was she as affected by him as he was by her? "I left Illinois a couple weeks ago."

 _Not a lie._

Her brow tightened. "I've been to Chicago; there's no trace of an accent."

Edward laughed. "I traveled a lot growing up, so I lost it over time." He sensed she wanted to know more.

"My name is Edward Masen." He leaned closer to whisper. "One more question, Bella."

"Isabella," she corrected, grumbling something about the matchmaking schemes of Mrs. Cope. She circled his body one last time, lingering behind him.

He looked over his shoulder, her eyes on his thighs or ass. " _Isabella_."

He felt her shiver.

Their eyes met. Her eyes were hard to describe—various shades of brown, with touches of gold and green. All framed by long lashes. She was beautiful.

"What time are you picking me up Friday?"

He turned toward her, pulling her closer. "Eight, dinner and dancing."

The intense look in his eyes made her fingers flex in his hold. "Something tells me you're trouble, Mr. Masen."

If she only knew.

...

Edward and Isabella exchanged numbers after touring her cafe, going over expansion plans. She welcomed his opinion about lighting; something he'd helped with designing their clubs.

The following days leading to their date, Edward would join her for coffee or lunch, keeping personal questions for a more intimate setting.

"I can't believe you're letting me drive your car." Edward gripped the key fob she'd given him, walking toward her Audi Friday night. They'd agreed to meet at the cafe, since her apartment was above it.

"I'd have to jump up to get into your truck, not a good idea in what I'm wearing."

There was no forgetting her red dress, with a sexy amount of skin showing. Not too much, but enough to send his imagination into overdrive. The neckline curved and plunged between her breasts, the fabric flaring out at her waist in several layers. Her tall, thin heels wrapped around her ankles, leaving mile-long legs. She'd haunt his dreams for weeks.

Edward caught her elbow before she walked past him. "Let me make something clear: I'm _not_ trying to compensate for something."

Her red lips morphed into an all-knowing smirk. "I'm aware of that, Edward." She stepped closer, her softness caressing every hard plane of him. "Very aware."

The slacks he wore did little to hide his hardening cock, but she wasn't complaining. If anything, she wanted to explore him. For the last week, whenever he stopped by, it was like that between them: teasing, some innuendo, and a whole lot of heat. How the hell could he resist her? He couldn't jump into bed with the first woman who stirred his interests and met the criteria he wanted in a wife.

"Don't flatter yourself, Isabella." He pointed at her car. "I'm excited about your black R8."

She playfully pushed him, a sound of satisfaction on her lips when he didn't budge an inch. The muscles along his abs tensed under her touch, his dick got harder.

"I'm not exciting you?" She spun, her dress flying over her gorgeous thighs, giving him a peek of matching, barely-there underwear. "Not certain I want to go dancing anymore." She gave him a soft pout, his control unraveling.

"Isabella." The whisper was meant to ease his desire and serve as a warning to her.

"What are you trying to achieve with this 'I'm a normal guy' act?" She put her hand on his chest. "Your eyes give you away, Edward. You're not easygoing and calm. You're shrewd, hard, and a no holds barred kind of man. You're used to taking what you want. Why are you hiding behind this fake exterior?"

 _How did she know?_ He kept the ease in his stance so not to give himself away more. "The same can be said about you."

She shrugged. "Other than the fancy car and nice place upstairs, no one would know I'm financially comfortable. Besides, everyone has secrets."

Edward took a step toward her. "There's more to you than a cafe and fancy car. I don't know what it is, but I want to find out."

"I'll let you in, if you let me do the same."

He pressed her against her sexy car. His eyes drifting from the curls around face, down the length of her neck. He thought it was unadorned the first time he saw her, but he was wrong. Constellations of light freckles danced along her neck, between her breasts, as if her entire body was made of galaxies.

"Are you sure you want the real me?" His lips hovered over her cheek, their noses barely touching. "If it were up to me, I'd fuck you against this car, here and now."

"There _you_ are." Her shuddering breath teased his ear, nibbling a little.

He grasped her hips, pulling her tight to him.

"As much as I'd love to say _please_ , I won't." She pulled back to smirk up at him. "I need to see you dance first."

"So the mark of a worthy man is a good dancer?" He laughed at her nod, kissing her hard. "Good, keep me on my toes, and maybe I'll stay." She made a face of disgust. "I usually don't stick around, Isabella."

Edward didn't have anywhere near the number of notches as his brothers. He simply ended a relationship with a woman once it went stagnant or he saw no future in it.

He opened the passenger door for her. The low profile of her R8 exposed a tantalizing amount of skin along her outer and inner thighs as she climbed inside.

"You're a beautiful woman, Isabella." He showed her a little of himself as he brushed the tip of his forefinger along her thigh. "Impossible to resist, too, but I suspect you already know that."

"I may use it to my advantage sometimes."

"Of that, I have no doubt." He closed the door, circling her car, taking a quick survey of the street. Parked two cars behind, in a SUV, was his security team. Another team was close, keeping their ears on the community, listening, in case Edward's identity was compromised.

Edward slipped into the car, taking off within seconds. After several miles, he caressed the steering wheel, glancing at Isabella. "It handles nice."

"Right? I had a sweet GTX before, but I sold it to an interested buyer." Her lips curled into a sneer for a moment. "The asshole, Mike, was near stalker level with his persistence in owning it. He wouldn't stop harassing my employees."

"Something tells me you didn't let him get away with it _._ _"_

The smile on her lips held secrets. Edward planned to learn what the consequences of pissing her off would be. He was a Cullen, after all; they'd fight, and likely with a fiery passion.

"You look good driving my car, Edward."

"Don't sound so surprised. I've test drove a few of these." He bought one for his mother last year.

She hummed; a delicious sound he wanted to hear repeatedly. "Just an observation." She rubbed her thighs together.

His knowing smile made her laugh; as if she knew she'd been caught.

"Are you thinking about what I said earlier, Isabella?" He thought of little else as she continued to shift her thighs.

"As if I could forget." She crossed her legs. "Tell me about yourself, Edward."

"There's not much to tell, Isabella. I had a seven figures job. Fast cars, faster women, all meaningless at the end of the day. Very stressful, and sometimes I had to get my hands dirty, leaving a bad taste in my mouth." Jasper's downward spiral and dead wife came to Edward's mind. "There was little time to truly enjoy life. At least in _this_ way."

"This way?"

He looked at her, seeing her eyes full of understanding. "Taking the time to get to know someone, savoring every moment."

She seemed to like his answer. "I understand what you mean. I used to work as a contractor before I owned my first cafe. It's a family business, and though my dad never expected me to follow in his footsteps, I did. I enjoyed the work, but after a while, I needed something simpler."

"Running a business isn't easy."

"To me, it is." She laughed nervously. "I still work with my dad on occasion, might have to help more now."

Sadness filled her eyes when he glanced at her. "What do you mean?"

"My dad was badly injured during a job." Anger seeped into her tone. "If I'd been there, instead of overseeing the cafe's expansion, he would be fine now."

Edward understood that, because when it came to something important, vital to the family, he preferred to handle it himself.

"I can see why it upsets you. I'm the same. If you want something done, you have to do it yourself."

She laughed.

"What?"

"You understand me a little already." She smiled. "The crew insists no matter what, he would've been hurt. Total bullshit."

Her short, red nails bit into her palms, the light muscles of her arms tightening as if she were ready to strike.

"They can't even look me in the eye anymore."

"Easy there, my little spitfire."

She punched his arm, and not lightly. "I'm not a _little spitfire._ I'm a fucking inferno when it comes to the people and things I love. It's best you know that now."

"Consider me informed, but I might need a reminder not to piss you off."

"Oh Edward, if I have to remind you, it means it's too late."

His laughter was genuine. He liked her already.

...

They walked hand in hand after dinner, window-shopping, until they found a bar. They licked salt from each other, slowing down after their third shot, deciding to burn off the alcohol on the dance floor.

"This dress is lethal." Edward nipped at her lips, enjoying the way she moved. She'd guided his hands to her ass during their second dance. Her nails bit into his shoulders, as his lips slipped down her neck. Two hours of nonstop salsa dancing, of sensual touches, and provocative moves, left him hard and wanting.

She was a fucking master, and though he held his own, she was deadly as her fingers traced his cock while they danced.

She led the way off the dance floor when the song ended. "Come on." Isabella fell into a chair, fanning her hand toward her face as fast as she could.

"I need to add two more miles to my morning jog to keep up with your stamina." She pushed her hair over her shoulder. "I shouldn't stroke your enormous ego."

Edward lavishly grinned. "Well, you were stroking my enormous…"

She placed her hand over his mouth. "Oh, no you don't." She rose, gesturing toward the bathroom. "One more dance then we're going home."

"So soon?"

"Edward, don't look at me like that."

She brushed her thumb along his bottom lip, making him hard again. "I have to check in with my father, and be up by three to get the bread in the oven."

"All right." He looked toward another table, recognizing one of his security members. Riley made a phone sign with his hand. Edward had turned off his cell, wanting no interruptions. His father was trying to reach him.

"I need to check in with my family, too." He kissed Isabella's hand, noticing the thin sheen of sweat along her neck and chest. She looked damn tempting. Her lashes fluttered as his tongue swept along the inside of her wrist. "Then I'll have the last dance."

"Yes, please."

…

Edward watched Isabella search for him as he stood in the middle of the dance floor, feeling lost somehow.

She had him eating out of the palm of her hand, and he'd only known her for days. He wanted to take her somewhere, taste her, fucking eat her alive.

Emmett had warned him not to jump into bed with Isabella, not if he wanted something more than meaningless sex. Yet, the yearning he had for her, seemed to control every aspect of his mind and body. The fact he might need to leave Seattle soon, made the desire ignite.

His father wanted him home if the problem with Alec Rossi was not resolved soon. Another girl had been found, barely alive, and currently taken in by his mother. The unspeakable acts Alec had done to her, made Edward's stomach churn, and filled his imagination with horrific images.

Alec could easily go after his mother, cousins, or Isabella could become a target, if Alec found out how much she already meant to Edward. His family never dealt with the business of selling people. His mother had been a victim at age fourteen, held against her will, and his father had saved her.

Isabella licked her lips when she spotted Edward, stalking toward him, moving to the beat of the music around them. Her hands gathered the fabric of her dress, shifting and gliding it over her hips and thighs, dancing until she was within arm's reach.

Then some asshole stepped in behind her, grabbing her hip and waist, as if he had every right to, which he did not.

Edward had always maintained control, in every situation. It was a whole other matter when someone touched _his_ Isabella without her permission. Then again, if she'd given it, he'd likely rip the man's arms off anyway.

As if she sensed Edward's anger, she shook her head when he stepped toward her. She shifted around until she faced the man, someone she seemed to recognize.

"What are you doing here, Mike?" She placed a hand on his chest, sending him a few steps back with her push.

 _Mike?_ The persistent asshole who bought her car.

"Claiming what you owe me." His slurred words were sloppy, and Mike wasn't getting the message, putting his hands on her hips again.

Edward kept his dark gaze on Mike, a war within him. He knew better than to draw attention to himself, but the man had seconds, before he lost all his fucking limbs. "Is there a problem, Isabella?"

"There's no problem, love."

Edward noticed the distinct edge in her voice. Her hand curled around the back of Mike's neck, the other gliding up his arm. She whispered in his ear, his bloodshot eyes widening at whatever she said.

Her knee came up fast, causing Mike to double over, his hands on his crotch. He started to vomit profusely.

Edward grabbed Isabella's waist, swinging her away. He heard her groan of disgust, followed by laughter. Two men suddenly flanked Mike, helping him to his feet.

"I was never yours, Mike. I'll never be yours. Consider yourself warned."

Edward didn't wait for the responses of Mike and his friends, taking her hand and leading her outside. If he didn't leave, he'd kill the asshole without giving a fuck about the consequences. He caught Riley's eye as he passed the security team's table. With a simple gesture of his head, Edward ordered Riley to take care of Mike.

They'd rough him up a bit, making it clear if he came after Isabella again, he was a dead man. Period.

The feel of Isabella's hand in his, to her rich laughter, and the scent of her perfume, combined with the conflict in his mind, it all added to a sense of urgency inside him. Once outside, Edward tugged her into an alleyway, pushing her against the wall.

Her arms draped over his shoulders, her fingers curling into his hair. "You're an amazing dancer."

Edward's thigh slid between her legs, groaning when he felt her warmth. "You kicked some guy in the nuts and that's what you're focusing on?"

She giggled, a sweeter sound, making him harder.

"If I focus on the fact you let me take care of myself… Thank you, by the way."

"You're welcome, but why don't you want to focus on that?"

"I'd get on my knees and suck on your cock."

Where was the woman who gave him shit for parking in a handicap zone? She was fierce, passionate, when he'd seen her stand up to her employee and him. Now, she was sex incarnate. She was loyal, and wouldn't betray family for money. He knew it would be easy to fall for the woman in his arms. The perfect fucking blend; everything he was looking for in a wife.

"I knew you could handle yourself." His lips brushed her cheek. "But I wanted to rip his fucking hands off."

She moaned, grinding against his thigh. "Edward, please touch me."

If he did, he'd fuck her in a damn alley. What happened to savoring? To not jumping into bed with her on the first date?

"Fuck, Isabella." She was unraveling him. "I'm trying to do this right, and _not_ fuck you right here."

She nipped at his ear, her voice a raspy whisper. "God, yes."

Edward had to be strong, if he had any chance of making things work with her. "I'm taking you home, where I'll kiss you good night and leave."

She pulled back, light flicking across her eyes, her breath labored, and sweat still gleaming on her skin, calling to him.

One corner of her lips tilted up. "I should warn you."

"Of what?"

Her hands slid down his chest, her short fingernails scratching and teasing him.

"Christ, Isabella."

"After nearly fucking on the dance floor, all the adrenaline running through me after kicking Mike's ass, and watching you handle my car, I'll be taking matters into my own hands." She walked away, a knowing smile on her lips.

"Dangerous fucking woman." Edward had to clear his throat and make an adjustment before joining her.

The ride back was uneventful, but filled with sexual tension. They kept their conversation light, but it didn't help much to ease their mutual desire.

Her phone rang minutes from her building. "I have to take this; it's my father's wife." She put family first; he liked that.

At least the call helped his lust simmer down.

"Hi, Sue." She spoke quietly, ending the call as Edward parked the car. "I have to leave town; my flight is in a couple hours."

"Business?"

"Yes." Her eyes narrowed. "It'll be a few days." She looked at him, taking the key fob. "How about I cook dinner when I return?"

"I could pick you up from the airport." His phone rang as he exited the car to open her door. "It's my brother. Hold on." He answered, letting Emmett know he'd call him back shortly.

" _You better, asshole."_

Isabella tried to keep a straight face as Edward ended the call. "Sounds important."

"Family is important to me." Edward cupped her face, looking into her eyes. "May I pick you up when you return? I can drop you off now, too."

"I need to leave my car somewhere." Her gaze dropped to his mouth. "But you can pick me up." She licked her bottom lip, eliciting him to do the same.

"I can still taste you, Isabella."

"But I can't."

He slid his tongue over her pouting lip, kissing her as he wanted to all night. His fingers slipped into her soft hair, tugging until he could deepen the kiss. She tasted of mint and tequila, and something undeniably her. It started out soft, but turned into something more passionate and needy. Each giving and taking in equal measure.

His phone rang again. "Fuck."

She pulled back, breathless and wanting. "I need to pack, call someone to cover my shift. If I didn't…"

"You'd try to convince me to come upstairs?"

"Not try, succeed."

He grabbed her, kissing her again, deep, addictive strokes of his tongue along hers. She tugged on his hair, making what he did next nearly impossible.

He stepped away. "You would've succeeded."

Edward called his brother once in the privacy of his truck. Emmett had good news for once: Alec Rossi had been found. They wanted information on the Rossi Family before they ended his life; their contractor was sending the Phoenix, their very best to get it.

...

Edward worked diligently while Isabella was gone, going over hundreds of files. Alec choosing girls from their clubs was no coincidence. They went through missing person's reports for the past six months, focusing on women who matched the description of Alec's victims.

A pattern emerged; at one point, over seven of those reported missing recently had worked in one of their clubs in the last three years. Once the police knew that, they'd come after the Cullens again, taking the attention off the Rossi Family.

"I'm picking up Isabella, Riley."

Riley was a bit older than Edward, with a slighter build and darker hair. He'd handled Mike, making sure the fucker knew never to come near Isabella again.

Isabella was his.

Riley covered a gruesome picture of one of the girls Alec murdered. "Should I send what we found to your father?"

Edward's phone rang. "Speak of the devil."

His father skipped pleasantries. "Alec Rossi is dead."

"How?" Edward asked.

"Alec was killed in a fiery car accident, his body nothing more than a pile of bones, Son."

"Are we sure it's him?"

"I was sent a link to live footage of the interrogation, before the contractor took care of Alec."

"And the information?"

"Not much, but Aro wants to keep us from conducting business in Chicago."

Edward explained their findings, believing they'd find more connections. "I'll contact Richards, so the police consider Alec for the murders."

"Emmett and Garrett will need to strip all records of those girls. Shouldn't be hard to do; they both worked under the table."

Riley tapped his watch, reminding Edward he had to meet Isabella at the airport.

"I have to pick up Isabella."

"Is this the same woman? Is she…?"

"Too early to tell." It wasn't. He already made up his mind; he was ready to work toward earning her affection.

Edward promised to call later, grabbing the keys to his recent purchase. He sent Isabella a text that he was running late.

He was done hiding behind the laid-back Edward Masen identity he'd created. It was time to give Isabella a taste of the kind of man he was. Jenks had come to Seattle the day before to make a purchase from the persistent pest Mike.

Isabella's GTX was now in Edward's possession. It was a sweet ride, with plenty of horsepower, which sent a clear message: _Don't fuck with me_.

Edward couldn't wait to see the look on her face when she saw his surprise. They'd played phone tag while she was gone, mostly communicating through text messages that got dirtier with every notification.

They were compatible in everything, from their levels of intellect, their dislikes and likes in all things, and their loyalty to family. Physically and intimately, he knew they'd be explosive.

An hour later, he found Isabella near the exit she mentioned in a text. She dropped her carry-on, looking shocked. There was no stopping his smile as he jumped out of the car.

"What did you do?" Her hand ran over the matte black finish, doing a series of fist pounds on the trunk, popping it open. "Oh, fuck! It's mine!"

"Yes, and my people found the source of the smell." He smirked when she blushed. "Fish in the hubcaps?"

"The plan was for Mike to want his money back." She grinned, then squealed, wrapping her arms and legs around him, her lips coming down hard on his. "Now we both have sexy cars."

"It's yours, Isabella."

"Mine?"

He nodded.

Her hold tightened around him. "Thank you, no one has ever done something like this for me." Her next kiss was soft, sweeter. She pulled back to look in his eyes, her fingers tracing his features. "Take me home, please."

His brow tightened. "I thought we were spending the day in Seattle."

Her teeth nipped on his ear. "We could, or you can spend the day sightseeing me."

They were on the freeway in record time, anticipation too palpable for coherent conversation during the drive. It didn't matter; the silence was comfortable, even peaceful.

Once they arrived, they took the stairs in the back of her building to avoid her employees, tumbling through the door.

"Are you sure?" Edward had to ask.

She slipped out of her shirt and bra, tossing them. "Does this answer your question?"

"Fuck, yes." He grabbed the back of her head, his lips slanting over hers.

She cried out as he pulled on her hair, kissing away his apology. "I like it."

They stripped each other of their clothes, their hands exploring, their mouths always connected.

"Now!" She begged as his mouth teased her nipples.

Edward took her lips in a heated kiss, resting his forehead on hers. He pulled up her knees around him, widening his stance. The tip of his cock right there.

"Edward."

At the sound of his name, he thrust inside her. "Goddamn, you're so tight, Isabella."

"What can I say?" She moaned as he pulled out, thrusting as hard as the first time. "Oh fuck, just like that."

"You were saying?"

"It's been a while." Her lips nipped at his neck. "Now fuck the words right out of me."

"Fuck." Edward's gaze dropped between their bodies, watching his cock slip in and out of her, keeping a steady pace. "Is it working?"

"I c-can still talk."

"Fucking kidding me. Harder?"

"I said fuck the words—"

Edward didn't give her a chance to finish, turning with his cock still deep inside her. His hands curved over her ass.

She gasped as he guided her hips over his cock, walking toward a large, white table.

"Oh fuck," she whimpered, his cock hitting the right spot.

He spread her out on the table, her body on display for him. His hand curled around her throat, her body arching under his touch, his thumb teasing her clit.

"How about now, Isabella?"

"S-till t-talking."

He tightened his fingers around her throat, making her moan. Fuck, he'd really met his match, in intellect and sexually. He wanted her to feel their first time together for days.

The tip of his forefinger brushed her bottom lip. "I should fuck your mouth instead." From the look in her eyes, she wanted him to. "Soon," he promised.

She said the magic words he wanted. "Edward, please."

He grabbed her knees, spreading her wide, pulling out to the tip, entering her hard. She led his hand to her throat, her own covering his. He devoured her lips, his hips moving in perfect sync to his beating heart. A sheen of sweat covered them both, the scents and sounds of their fucking snapped his control.

"You're mine, Isabella. Mine." He pounded into her. "Mine."

She could only nod and moan, pulling his hair with the same desperation he had. He'd succeeded in fucking the words out of her.

His thumb brushed along her jaw, and that was when he saw the bruise.

"What the fuck?"

Before he had a chance to stop, she shook her head, grabbing hold of his face. "Edward, please."

He groaned, their bodies keeping the same brutal pace, despite the softening in their eyes. They came with a force that left them shaking afterward, barely finding the strength to collapse on the couch.

"What happened?"

"Mike came by after you left on Friday. We were fighting. He pushed me into the wall." She looked up at him, her body curled on his lap. "But I kicked his ass."

"Fuck." Riley hadn't gone after Mike until the following afternoon.

"He was mad about the other night."

"That doesn't give him the right to lay a hand on you."

"No, it doesn't." She kissed his lips. "Thanks for getting back my car."

"It was my pleasure."

They soon took their lovemaking to the hallway, the shower, and eventually her bedroom.

Edward slipped out of Isabella's bed before the sun fully rose, covering her with a sheet. He grabbed his things from the living room, finding privacy in a guest bathroom. He didn't want Isabella overhearing the call he had to make.

"Boss?" Riley answered.

"I want Mike Newton dead."

"Should I call your father to set it up or take care of it personally?"

"Our usual contractor is busy. Take care of it yourself for a very nice bonus."

"Consider it done."

...

After their first night together, with the threat of Alec no longer an issue, Edward spent as much time as possible with Isabella for weeks.

Soon, she had him meet her father.

Charlie was a quiet but intimidating man. It was in his eyes. Edward understood what Isabella meant when she said the same thing about him. Charlie's eyes said it all: he loved his daughter, and he'd kill for her.

Charlie recognized the same look in Edward's eyes. "You're going to take care of my daughter. And she'll take care of you."

"I don't need her to, but…" Edward glanced toward Isabella in the kitchen. "I couldn't imagine my life without her."

Charlie nodded. "Your background check came back clean, so I don't have to kill you."

"Good, I plan to stick around, Charlie."

"But not here, right? She mentioned family back east or something."

"Illinois. I do miss my family."

Charlie seemed to understand. "I knew the day would come, but it'll be good for her to start fresh somewhere else."

Once seated at dinner with Isabella's small family, Edward realized he fit in with them quite easily.

He hoped she'd feel the same when he took her to meet his family.

...

Isabella moved away when Edward reached to stop her. "We need coffee and muffins."

"Fine. We head to the airport in an hour." He smacked her ass as she walked away.

Days had passed since meeting Charlie, now he was taking Isabella to meet the Cullen Clan.

Edward got up, dressing in a pair of dark slacks and matching dress shirt, and was debating a tie when he heard Isabella scream downstairs.

He ran to the window, slipping his gun from under the mattress. His blood ran cold as two men dragged Isabella toward a black sedan. She bit, screamed, and kicked, almost freeing herself, but a third man joined the others.

Edward ran down the stairs, his shoulder hitting the door hard, the car's brakes squealing as it sped away. "Fuck!" He couldn't shoot with Isabella in the car.

Suddenly, Riley drove up in Isabella's GTX. The other guards were in an SUV already gaining on the sedan. Edward dove in as the door opened, demanding Riley drive.

"We got word Alec's cousins were in the city and not to sightsee."

Edward pulled out a secure cell phone, calling his father. "Someone took Isabella."

" _Fuck. Does this mean war, Son?"_

Edward's father was asking if Isabella was the one.

"Yes."

" _Shoot to kill, bring her home, then we'll decide what to do next."_

"We're bringing every fucking piece of Rossi shit down." Edward hung up, keeping an eye on the sedan. "Give me your phone; I need to talk to one of the others."

Riley tossed Edward his phone, swerving to avoid a truck.

Edward issued orders when someone answered. "Get along side of it. If she's down, shoot the motherfuckers. They can't get to the damn freeway."

The SUV caught up to the sedan; Isabella's GTX eating up the road between it and the two speeding vehicles. Edward's men shot out a few windows of the sedan, but bullets flew toward them.

Edward realized where they were. "The fuckers didn't even plan for this!" He spent hours memorizing maps of the area, because knowing escape routes was a necessity. The road led to new development in the first phase of construction and a dead end.

The security team's SUV fishtailed, spinning out of control, the gas tank exploding.

"Fuck!" They passed the burning wreckage, the men gone. "Get us closer, Riley!"

Brakes protested behind them, the extra security team finally caught up. "Fucking finally," Riley hissed, gesturing for them to go to the right.

Gravel spit up at Edward's face, as he tried to shoot a tire. Bullets pinged off the side of the car, making him dive inside again. "Goddammit, get me beside that car!" He couldn't get a visual of anyone inside. "How did they know I'm here?"

Heads were going to roll. He'd been so focused on compatibility, on a woman who wouldn't be after his money, and loyalty, but he needed her love, too.

The other crew tried to force the car toward the GTX, but the move sent the SUV into an embankment, flipping on its side.

"Fuck!" Edward ducked a few wild shots from the car. "Get me beside them again."

Riley pointed at a road construction sign. The dead end on all the maps no longer was one. It was still only dirt and gravel, but the sedan could hit the freeway in minutes.

"We've got to stop them now!"

The sedan suddenly swerved to the right, then jerked wildly to the left, and back again.

"What the fuck is going on?" Fear and pure rage threatened Edward's heart to explode in his chest. "Isabella!" The sedan hit the steep embankment at top speed, sending it spinning in the air. "Nooooo!"

The car rolled, landing on its tires, skidding to a stop.

Edward jumped out of the car, calling for Isabella. A man stumbled out of the wreckage, blood pouring from his neck. Edward shot him without a second thought. Isabella climbed out, her hand covered in blood, more coming from a head wound.

Her eyes locked with his, aiming a gun at him. "Who are you?" She held onto her side. "You're in my crosshairs, Edward, answer me."

Edward stood stock-still, a mere several feet away. If she shot the gun accidentally, she'd probably hit him or Riley.

Riley held up his gun, aiming it at her.

Edward lowered his weapon, holding up his free hand. "Baby, I need to check your head."

"Don't baby me! Who are you?" She put her finger on the trigger.

"Edward," Riley hissed.

"Don't you dare." Edward kept his eyes on Isabella. "I'll tell you everything, but I need to check your wounds."

"They were using me to get to you!" Her eyes narrowed. "Tell me who you are or I'll shoot."

"Do you even know how to use one of those?" Edward asked.

She pulled the trigger, the bullet missing his shoulder. "Does that answer your question? Now answer mine."

"Drop your gun, or I'll shoot." Riley had to protect Edward at all costs.

"Lower your fucking gun." Edward looked at Riley, realizing how serious he was. Riley was under his father's orders.

"Fuck this." Isabella kept her gun aimed at them, pulling out her phone. "Password, alpha, niner, tango, bird."

" _Voice identification confirmed."_

She held up her phone toward Edward and Riley. "Run face recognition program."

"Oh fuck." Riley shifted, but Edward held up his hand.

" _Riley Biers, aliases Elijah Greene, Xavier Viridian. Arrested for armed robbery, assault with a deadly weapon, drug trafficking."_

"I am under strict orders by your father to protect your identity, Edward."

Edward maintained eye contact with Isabella. "Let her find out, Riley. I love her. You shoot her, I'll end you."

Isabella's eyes bounced between them, then her phone finally spit out the truth. _"Edward Anthony Carlisle Cullen."_

She exhaled sharply. "Why didn't you fucking say so? It would've saved me a lot of trouble. Jesus."

"You know who he is?"

She didn't bother answering Riley, keeping her eyes on Edward.

"Who are you?" Edward asked.

"I am Phoenix." She curtsied, a smile on her lips.

"Phoenix?" Riley didn't understand the look between Edward and his bitch, but he was about to shoot and ask questions later.

Edward's mind pieced things together. "She's one of our contractors."

"Contractor?" Riley's hand shook. "Do you mean hitman?"

Isabella kept her aim on Edward. "Did you mean it?"

Edward didn't hesitate. "Yes, I meant it."

"Only those I work directly with know what Phoenix looks like."

Edward got the message. Keeping his eyes on her, he shot Riley in the head in the next second.

Isabella's eyes rolled back in her head, gun falling. "I love you, too."

Edward lunged for her, capturing her before she hit the dirt. He headed for the GTX as the other security team caught up on foot.

"Riley?" David asked, leader of the second team.

"Dead."

The crew didn't need to know he had killed Riley. And from the look on David's face, he didn't give a fuck.

"Clean up here, then head to my house, we're flying out tonight."

"Sure thing, boss."

"Jesus Christ." One of the others looked inside the sedan. "Someone decapitated the driver."

Edward looked at Isabella, her eyes fluttering open. A thin piece of razor sharp wire was in her bloody palm. She winked, blowing him a kiss.

"Torch the scene."

Edward had them on the road in seconds, watching as Isabella pulled out a piece of metal from her side.

Applying pressure on the wound, she looked at him. "Am I still meeting your family?" Her eyes closed.

"Don't close your eyes, Isabella." Blood dripped down her temple. "Put some pressure on your head, baby."

"I've had worse."

He believed her. "Unbelievable, I'm fucking the Phoenix."

Her next words were slurred. "I've got it worse. I'm fucking a Cullen."

Edward snorted. "Our families might not like this."

"Why? We're a match made in heaven."

They were. "Do you realize what taking you to meet my family means?"

"You can tell your father, but no one else. My anonymity keeps me alive."

"I have no problem with that, but that's not what I meant."

"It means you want to marry me." Her eyes teared up. "You'd already made up your mind when you first asked me to come home with you."

"Yes, I did." He looked at her then; she was so fucking beautiful. "Stay with me, Isabella."

She nodded sleepily. "Take me home."

* * *

 **AN: Thanks to everyone who participated in the contests, to the hosts, judges, betas, validators and all the readers/reviews. Thanks so much to my beta Midnight Cougar who helped me cut more than 6000 words from the original (ouch) and working down to the wire. I'll be posting an extended version of the one shot as a multi-chapter fic, that include extended scenes, missing scenes, and yes, I'll be adding to the story. What would you like to see?  
**


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